


we are tangled together in the roots

by tryslora



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Coda, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Guardians - Freeform, Knights - Freeform, Lunar Ellipse, M/M, Pre-Slash, Spoilers, this might help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2017-12-24 03:30:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/934790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It doesn’t take long before Stiles realizes that the tiny knot of darkness around his heart is not the only thing his sacrifice has given him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we are tangled together in the roots

**Author's Note:**

> This is a coda to 3x12 of Teen Wolf, and it contains spoilers for the mid-season finale. It's just a quick ficlet because the idea rolled over me and demanded to be written. As always, I do not own the characters or world of Teen Wolf, I just like to play with them.

It doesn’t take long before Stiles realizes that the tiny knot of darkness around his heart is not the only thing his sacrifice has given him.

He jokes to Scott and Allison that by playing the role of guardian, they have _become_ the guardians of the nemeton, but it isn’t really a joke. Neither of them feels it, not the way he does, but they all play the role. Allison protects the people of Beacon Hills with her bow and Scott keeps the peace as alpha. But Stiles… he _feels_ the nemeton, and every time something new comes to town, he is their early warning system.

He feels the coven that comes to see what has changed, and he feels the sidhe who seek out their lost sisters. He warns them about the rogue wolves who creep in to destroy what they think is a weak pack. As the months slide by, he spends more and more time sitting at the stump, letting his consciousness sink into it, feeling the paths of energy that culminate in this one place.

He understands the power that it holds, and knows that he doesn’t wield that power: it wields him.

But that’s okay. Stiles _knew_ that their sacrifice would open doorways and he accepts his role as guardian of Beacon Hills. It feels _right_.

This is how he knows when Peter makes his move, returning to Beacon Hills after five months, positively dripping with power that feels familiar at its root. Peter is something worse than everything else they have faced since the alpha pack. His psychosis makes him more dangerous, his power makes him unstable. Stiles can feel him like a heartbeat in the darkness, and he knows it means they need reinforcements.

He sits crosslegged atop the stump and he reaches out, letting his mind sink into the nemeton, seeking the things that are tied to its roots. He calls to them in ways they cannot ignore the same way they have ignored every email and every text in the time that has passed. He pushes _need_ into their souls, drawing them back to Beacon Hills where they belong.

Stiles is a guardian, and he calls the warriors they will need.

Two days later he is bent over his desk, chewing on his pen as he works at math problems that mean nothing to him amidst the current spate of “animal” attacks. His window slides open, and Stiles is on his feet, hands out, body turned to face the intruder.

He wasn’t sure it would work, but it has.

It worked.

Derek stands there, hands tucked in the pockets of his leather jacket, stance easier than Stiles ever remembers seeing. As Stiles waits, tension crawling up the back of his neck, Derek _smiles_ , and that bites deep into his chest. He gasps, and lets his breath out slowly as Derek approaches.

“You came,” Stiles says quietly. “You didn’t answer a single fucking email—you _and_ Cora went completely silent—but you’re here now.”

“You called. We couldn’t ignore it.”

And that’s just it. Stiles _knew_ they wouldn’t be able to stay away, that this was in their blood and that the supernatural ties would bring them back. His gaze drops. “Well, yes, we needed you. Peter’s back and he feels like you, _your_ alphaness bleeding all over the place. He’s a knot in the woodwork and we need to dig him out. He makes us unstable.”

“Us?”

“Me. Scott. Allison.” Stiles spreads his hand and finally raises his eyes to meet Derek’s gaze. “You have no idea what we’ve become.”

“Whatever it is, it looks like it hurts.” Derek’s thumb slides easily along the tight line of Stiles’s jaw; Stiles feels breath shudder in his chest.

“Yeah, well, and you look good.”

“I feel good.”

“Well, good.” Stiles runs out of words and he swallows to cover it, all too aware of the comforting touch that lingers against his cheek. “We need you, so I hope you’re staying.”

“We’re staying.” Derek lets his hand drops, turns back to the window. He is half out of it when he stops and looks back at Stiles, who hasn’t moved. “You need us,” he says quietly. “ _You_ need help. You need to relax, and to stop killing yourself over this.”

“I missed you.” The words slip out before Stiles means them to, and he clenches his hands tightly.

Derek’s grin is slow coming, and bright and brilliant when it arrives. “I missed you, too. Don’t worry Stiles, I’ve got your back.”

He disappears out the window; Stiles hears his feet strike the ground softly, hears the rumble of the Toyota’s engine as Derek leaves.

And Stiles is finally able to let go of some of the tension, breathing it out as he sinks down onto his bed. He falls back, collapsing onto the bed and letting it hold his weight, relaxing as he realizes that he has someone. He has his knight.

He has never been alone, not bound to Scott and Allison as he is. But he has never had someone to hold him up when he falters, and it feels like Derek just offered. When Stiles touches the knot of the nemeton around his heart, it feels looser, and for the first time in months, he is able to breathe.


End file.
